


Need to Sign a Waiver

by Josey (cestus), junko



Series: Shattered Souls [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestus/pseuds/Josey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have fallen into a routine at the shōten, but why is Kisuke plagued by doubts?  And what was he thinking going to that man for advice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need to Sign a Waiver

**Author's Note:**

> This is a canon divergence that takes place after the Aizen’s betrayal and before the Bount Arc.

Kisuke was worried. No, worried was too strong a term. If he'd allowed himself to worry over paltry little things like this, he'd have driven himself insane half a century ago. Instead, let us try 'concerned'. Kisuke was _concerned_ that everything was not as it appeared to be. A strange conceit coming from a man like himself, he thought, and yet here he was, the clock ticking on towards three am, lying sleepless in his bed, being _concerned._

Over the past few days the first flush of scientific fascination, which had spurred his initial involvement in the experiment and the construction of Zabimaru's gigai, had faded somewhat leaving in its place a twinge of paranoid (not without good reason, Kisuke reminded himself) suspicion that the apparently guileless Abarai-fukutaichō was some kind of super spy intent on exposing devious doings at the Urahara Shōten, specifically doings done by Urahara himself. 

Not that Kisuke could actually blame Soul Society at this precise time if that were true. In some ways there had been a largish part of him which had expected a drop-in call from the Onmitsukidō sometime in the week following Aizen's defection. Apparently Aizen’s speech on Sōkyoku Hill had left no chance of anyone misinterpreting Kisuke's involvement. And yet there had been nothing - until the arrival of a letter clasped in the sweaty paw of a strangely naïve fukutaichō.

Kisuke rolled onto his side, tucking an arm under his head, and treated the wall to a share of his glowering attention. The air in the room was sluggish, too warm and yet chilly over skin that felt damp and unhealthy. He really should try and sleep more, eat better, or he'd be making another gigai for himself. 

And thinking that brought him straight back to his potentially treacherous house guest. He had absolutely no evidence to support any of these suspicions, of course. He'd tried finding them; reviewing the readings from the sensors in Abarai's gigai, watching any new footage he’d managed to capture on the shōten’s security system, even covertly spying on Abarai when he was out patrolling; and every scrap of behaviour reinforced the assumption that the fukutaichō was exactly as he appeared. But there had to be more. Soul Society did not send captain-level fukutaichō to the human world as duty shinigami. Not even disgraced ones.

Unfortunately, given an absence of evidence, Kisuke couldn't confront Abarai with his doubts without... well, sounding like a paranoid fool, for one thing, but the other thing was, What if that was what Soul Society was expecting? What if this were some kind of test to see if he could work with them? There was no doubt in Kisuke's mind that Aizen would be back at some point and having lost three captains, the old man was in no position to turn down any help he could get. Help that Kisuke was more than willing to offer. _On his terms_. It wasn't like he had any love for Aizen either, even if there was a part of him that understood. Sympathised even. That thing...

No, now was not the time. Above and beyond the politics of Soul Society, its function was paramount. The balance of souls between the worlds had to be maintained and what Aizen threatened was its destruction. Despite his misgivings, Kisuke could not endorse any actions which threatened that. 

It all came down to the souls. Like the one Abarai had offered up, entirely and utterly out of the blue, for Kisuke's scientific perusal. Why? 

Kisuke sighed and flopped onto his back, covers pushed down to his hips and arms over his face. This wasn't working. He was simply going round and round in circles getting nowhere. He needed to break the cycle. A flash of crimson behind his eyes reminded him of Benihime's patented cure-all but frankly he wasn't in the mood, even if he could find someone else who was. What he needed was an outside opinion. Someone who wasn't Yoruichi or Tessai or ten.

Five minutes later, fully dressed, and with Benihime in hand, he took to the roofs. Even with a quick stop at an all-night store it didn't take him long to reach his destination and, once there, he silently took a seat and tugged a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He was halfway down the first when thick fingers deftly pilfered it and a figure settled beside him on the roof with a quiet grunt.

"Didn't expect to see you tonight."

Kisuke shrugged and continued staring at the stars. A plane coming in to land blinked slowly across the sky, lights flashing red, white, red as it went. People returning home. It made him oddly nostalgic. He'd been feeling that way a lot recently. "I hadn't planned to come, except that I find myself in need of," he swallowed distastefully, "some advice." Of all the people, asking this man for advice should be pointless, and yet Kisuke hadn't been able to think of anyone else. At least he knew the score.

"Now that's not something you hear every day," Kurosaki Isshin chuckled, "The great Urahara Kisuke asking for advice."

"And from the likes of you. I know, don't over milk the situation or you might find it bites. And yes, I do realise that's asking a lot." 

"Give me the rest of the cigarettes and I promise to do my best."

Kisuke flicked the pack over without argument. He'd brought them for Isshin anyway. They were a calling card, nothing more.

They vanished into Isshin's pockets as the man stretched out on the roof, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the sky as well. "So?" he said after a moment.

"I suspect foul play on behalf of Soul Society."

"Ichigo?" Isshin asked immediately, bolting upright as though ready to spring into action at any moment.

Kisuke shook his head. "No, not that. They seem quite content to let him be for now, so long as he shows no signs of instability. And if any of them are aware of his hollow, the issue hasn't been raised in the wrong circles."

"Phew!" Isshin relaxed, head dropping onto his chest. "Damn it, man, you worried me for a moment then." Then he glanced over at Kisuke. "So, who is under the microscope this time?"

"Myself, I fear." And wasn't that a difficult confession to make. He, who had been the shelter from all storms was now, potentially, in need of harbour.

"What did you do?" Isshin asked and then began iterating Kisuke's list of crimes on his fingers. "Apart from harbouring known fugitives, trading in black market goods, illegal production of mod-souls, aiding and abetting spiritually aware humans, the construction of unauthorized senkaimon – You know what, forget I asked."

Kisuke fluttered his fan to hide his face, amused and charmed as always by Isshin's antics. "Indeed. However this feels somewhat different." Briefly, and without over-dramatising, he outlined his misgivings about Abarai and the offer he'd made vis-a-vis his zanpakutō. Isshin, unusually, listened in silence, his expression one of focus and concentration. Only when Kisuke had finished did he pull a face and look away.

"Sounds dodgy."

"Which I think is what I said at the outset of this conversation."

Isshin shrugged. "You could just tell him you don't want to do it anymore. Not give a reason. That way you're off the hook and he's got nothing to squeal to Gotei 13 about."

Pouting and saying, 'But I don't wanna,' was childish so Kisuke refrained, though apparently some of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because Isshin laughed. "That good, huh."

"Better," Kisuke replied. "Imagine someone came to you with a possible panacea and offered themselves as a guinea pig."

Isshin nodded in understanding. "So what do you want?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. In truth, as you so rightly said, if they want to drag me back, it isn't as though they need a reason. I, better than most, am fully aware of the fate of those Soul Society deems inconvenient. And yet here I am." Kisuke tapped his fan against his nose. "That must mean something."

"It means you're too useful here."

The fan did a twirl. "Touché. But in that case, the question of Abarai still remains." 

"Perhaps you are just being paranoid."

Why had he chosen Isshin again? Ah yes, beggars, choosers, and some such. "It is possible, I suppose."

"But you don't think so."

Kisuke closed his eyes and shook his head. Deep inside him Benihime shifted uneasily. _I do not like this_ , she said. _There is some intrigue brewing and yet I cannot fathom the shape of it._

_Abarai?_ Kisuke asked.

_Perhaps and yet that is not truly the extent of it. Be careful, my love._

When he opened his eyes again, Isshin was staring at him intently. "Does she think there's something?" he asked.

"She's convinced of it."

"Then there's something. You might be paranoid. She never is."

Kisuke nodded acknowledgement. Benihime had only led him wrong once and that had been during the Aizen débâcle, which could hardly be blamed on her.

Silence fell then, as each of them, lost in their own thoughts, contemplated plots and counter plots. Finally Isshin shook his head and pushed to his feet. "I think you’re on your own here, friend. There’s a reason I left all that crap behind and it wasn’t just because I sucked at it.” He stretched, thrusting his hands above his head and twisting till his back cracked. Kisuke watched, mildly disturbed. There was another gigai that was going to need remedial work soon.

“All I can think of,” Isshin continued, “is that if your guy with the so-called panacea turned up on my doorstep, the first thing I’d get him to do is sign a waiver."

Kisuke lifted an enquiring brow. 

"So he couldn’t sue me."

"I'm sorry?"

For all that he had decades on Kurosaki Isshin in terms of residence in the human world, Kisuke would be the first to acknowledge that he had held himself separate from it. Isshin, on the other hand, had gone completely native. As a practising doctor he was as familiar with human bureaucracy as it was possible to be and the picture he proceeded to paint for Kisuke was as intriguing as it was confusing. By the end of the explanation Kisuke was fairly buzzing.

"So they put their name to this form and so long as you abide by the rules as laid out, it's not your fault if it goes wrong?" What marvellous concept. Armed with something like that Yoruichi would never have been able to scold him.

"I wouldn't go that far, but it does mean that everyone knows the score before they start."

Kisuke wasn't listening. His mind was running a mile a minute, adding things together and very quickly reaching larger and larger numbers. Of course. How could he have forgotten the way certain people habitually hid their most important messages in plain sight? Ever the stickler for protocol, the old man needed Central 46 to overturn Kisuke's exile before he could make a formal approach, leaving him with no choice but to take a less direct route. Read in the right way, Ukitake's letter was an obvious request for aid, not just for the stray dog carrying the message, but for Soul Society as a whole. 

The mistake he'd made was in thinking that Abarai was important, when in fact the fukutaichō was exactly as he appeared, although no doubt primed to ask certain questions and request specific things. And Isshin had inadvertently provided the perfect way of sending a message back because what said, 'yes, I'll help, but only on my terms,' any clearer than a signed - what was it now? Ah yes, ‘informed consent document’.

"Do you think you could lend me one of these wonderful pieces of chicanery?" Kisuke requested.

Isshin halted his rambling lecture on medical ethics and frowned. "Sure but I don't think Central 46 would care if Abarai signed one or not," he said.

"I agree, however there are those who would. And, unless I've read the situation very wrongly, those people – those captains," he emphasised, "would appreciate the effort." Feeling better than he had since this whole thing had started, he flipped his fan open and warbled, "Why, Isshin-san, how exciting. We might end up being invited to the party after all."

#

Waiting until after dark to start the process may seem ominous to some. Kisuke didn't think so, and honestly it had been pure coincidence that he'd finally got the equipment up and running so soon after certain people left for patrol.

The abandoned gigai stared at him from the folded futon in the corner of the storeroom where Abarai usually slept. Kisuke took a moment to reflect, again, on the wisdom of the path he was taking, before hoisting the gigai over his shoulder and dropping the note and the bottle of shower gel containing soma fixer in its place. He needed to stop worrying. So long as everyone followed the rules, everything would be fine. Hopefully. Or at least not terminal. Probably.

Laboratory three, and its underground workroom, was lit up like a shrine at New Year. Kisuke had spent the past several days adjusting and readjusting the mod-soul conditioning unit to compensate for Abarai and Zabimaru being living souls and he was fairly certain he had the settings correct. Though since this was, to his knowledge, the first time anyone had actually tried anything like this, he couldn't be one hundred percent certain. At least the side effects should be minimal. It wasn't like Abarai looked like the type to want children anyway.

He deposited the kidnapped gigai on the lab floor next to Zabimaru's smaller, and much prettier, one and returned to his tinkering, running the numbers one more time, just to be sure. He didn't want any mishaps at the last moment. It was all about balance and control and ensuring that both of them would have what they needed. A minor flaw in one set of limiter consolidates sent him scurrying back to the programming and the next few hours sped by in a blur of numbers and correcting code.

Abarai returned just after the clock in the lab beeped midnight and an aggravated bellow some minutes later could have been him discovering the note, or Zabimaru's reaction upon reading it. Either way, they would be with him soon, and Kisuke began his last minute preparations. A drop cloth to protect the floor, spare power supply and back up, extra soma fixer just in case, and of course the informed consent document. 

All ready for his guest, he took a seat in front of the second display and waited.


End file.
